


Words Are Plain, Like A White Paper Plane

by yzabel



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Best Friends Choi Beomgyu & Choi Yeonjun, Bullying, Character Death, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreams vs. Reality, Family Issues, M/M, Reality, Sad Choi Beomgyu, Soft Choi Beomgyu, Still bad but I think I improved-, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yzabel/pseuds/yzabel
Summary: Every time he cried, every time he sobbed; it felt like knives were stabbing his throat. It was painful, yet for some reason, it lessened the weights that were hanging on his shoulders.Beomgyu climbed on his bed and leaned against the wall, he hugged his knees, and with a wobbly, breathy, and small voice—he whispered, “You said that you’ll always be here, yet why aren’t you here…?”Words are plain.
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Choi Yeonjun, Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	Words Are Plain, Like A White Paper Plane

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Excessive mentions of Depression, bullying, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. It may trigger something so please, read at your own risk.

Everyday was the same terrible day for him, nothing had changed—not the home (or can he even call it as one) he always goes back to, and neither did the school he studies at. All of those were still the same, chaotic, and cruel places he has ever set foot on.

“Hey, Beomgyu,” From the very moment he slid the door open, an oh-so-familiar voice welcomed his entrance. It was no other than the infamous, Kim Mingyu.

He held on tighter to the straps of his backpack, silently walking to his seat while biting his lip—allowing all of his anxiousness to sink beneath his rosy lips.

“Yah, why aren’t you greeting me back? That’s so rude of you,” Mingyu shook his head in a, rather, irritating way while patting Beomgyu’s shoulder.

This caused Beomgyu to flinch a little with his trembling hands rested on his lap. Mingyu leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “I know that you are clearly aware you’ll get punished because of that,” His voice was breathy, and the unwanted warmth of his breath caressed Beomgyu’s neck.

When Mingyu saw the little one’s reaction—his eyes closed while his lips quivered—it was enough to satisfy the shit out of him. So, he straightened his back and buried his hands in his pockets, “See you at the school gate. Prepare your two months’ allowances, I’ll be bringing my friends,” He spoke with a little grin.

Ever since the beginning of high school, it’s always been like this for him. People would always take advantage of him, they would use what he has to satisfy their unending shits and needs; be it his allowances, forcing him to do their assignments, ask him to take over their duties, and he himself. 

A puppet, perhaps? A small, fragile, and controllable piece of puppet to fill in their needs and insensible craps as if they couldn’t do it themselves.

And he had no other choice but to fall weak. In the end, he would always fall weak, lose hope, lose courage.

Until he heard the door slide open.

Beomgyu looked at the door, almost in tears, and saw Yeonjun by the door. His lips twitched out a smile upon seeing him; the person he never thought would see the undying beauty of a flower without its petals.

“Hyung…,” The little one managed to call out, and lucky enough, his voice didn’t crack. The pink-haired boy looked at him, his face instantly softening when he saw how vulnerable the little boy looked.

Yeonjun fastens his pace towards the raven-haired and gently grabbed him by the arm, “H-hyung, what are you—” Yet Yeonjun shushed him.

“Just come with me. You need enough space to breathe,” The older one smiled, as if he was reassuring him that everything will be fine.

In the end, he lets Yeonjun bring him somewhere—that somewhere being the rooftop. A place so tranquil, so quiet, and so refreshing; enough to calm anyone who was in a messy state.

As soon as Yeonjun closed the door, he gave Beomgyu a kiss on the forehead—it was long, and it was more than enough to sooth the younger one.

Yeonjun wrapped his hand around Beomgyu’s waist and pulled him closer, he held Beomgyu’s nape with his other hand and whispered to his ear.

“I will always be here.”

There it was, the words that always lifted the little one every time he fell in the endless pit of misery. The words that will always lull him if they came from Yeonjun’s lips.

“I’ll always be here for you, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu smiled and wrapped his hands around Yeonjun’s neck, he took in his comforting scent, and nodded in response. Right, his Yeonjun will always be here for him. Through the good and bad, Yeonjun will be here for him—just like now, on this very rooftop where Yeonjun witnessed his most fragile state.

He’ll be here.

Or will he really?

“Another order of Soju please!” Mingyu shouted which caused Beomgyu to look at him with wide eyes.

“B-but you already ordered a lot… I don’t think I can—” His shaking words were cut off by the dagger Mingyu’s eyes aimed at him.

Immediately, he shrank down his seat while looking down at his lap and fidgeted with his fingers. He was afraid right now, Mingyu already ordered a lot for him and his friends—not even thinking of being considerate about the amount.

“Dude, another one? We already ordered almost half of a case and some other foods,” One of his friends said while chuckling, “Are you sure he can pay for it? We might get in trouble if he can’t,” Then he queried.

This caused Mingyu to smirk and wrap an arm around Beomgyu’s shoulders, “Of course, he can,” He pulled him closer, “Right, Beommie?”

The nickname was cute, but for Beomgyu, it sounded horrible—disgusting, because of the way he said it. He wanted to shrug his hand off, but he was a wuss—so cowardice took over before he could even try.

A vast dark blanket tucked the hollow sky with the littlest of stars twinkling innocently all over it. However, the last glimpse of innocence in Beomgyu’s eyes was slowly fading—like a ghost-like fog disappearing into thin air at the month of December.

“C-can you repeat that?” Beomgyu didn’t know whether he heard it right or not, either way, he knew he was done for.

The cashier boy sighed while rolling his eyes, “I said, that would be 11, 712 won,” When the person behind the cashier repeated those words, Beomgyu swore he just felt his blood left his system—he looked pale, something that always happened yet he’s still not used to it.

“Wait a minute,” Beomgyu bowed his head and quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, his hands trembling while dialing Yeonjun’s number.

Anxiously bringing the phone closer to his ear while his foot composed a strange rhythm on the floor. He bit his lip, four rings have passed yet he still didn’t answer the call.

“Yeonjun, please, answer the call—” In the middle of his crisis, the cashier boy suddenly broke his train of jitters.

“Sir, can you pay now? We have to close in a few more minutes,” His voice was mixed with a big hint of annoyance, and this made Beomgyu vulnerable even more.

After realizing that Yeonjun wouldn’t answer his call any time soon, he locked his phone and approached the cashier. Reluctantly handing him his credit card—the card that contains all of his savings.

When his card had already been swiped, it was given back to him immediately.

Beomgyu looked at his card, contemplating with a hunch of regret and pain in his eyes. All his months of saving his allowances, it all came down to this useless, insensitive, and passing-the-limits hangout of people he didn’t even know.

“You’re awful…,” He whispered, the edge of his words almost breaking.

It felt like he was being pulled down an endless ocean, feeling the weight of the water consume his small being. Every day felt like this, yet Yeonjun was able to pull him out—even for just a few seconds—and let him go after he saved in enough breath to sink once again.

He could hear a muffled voice calling out for him, was it Yeonjun? No, he knew his voice all too well to know it wasn’t him.

“Sir… um, sir? Here’s your receipt,” And that’s when he was brought back to reality—the awful, painful, and unwanted reality he’s living in.

“Ah, right. Thank you,” He grabbed the receipt and bowed is head before leaving the small building.

A gust of wind caressed his face, it sent shivers down his spine—the air was cold, and it wasn’t even the winter season yet. He buried his hands deep within his pockets, and Beomgyu inhaled the night air and exhaled his frustrations.

Lampposts placed on each sides of the streets—creating an aisle of lights surrounded by a pool of darkness, they were guiding him on his way home; the kind of home no one would want to live in, yet he head no other choice since it was the home given to him. Maybe by force? Because he never wanted it.

“Why didn’t Yeonjun-Hyung answer my call…?” He asked himself as he looked down the pavement, his feet crashing the piles of dead leaves scattered around the ground.

Various thoughts invaded his fragile mind, it gave an itchy feeling within his chest—he wanted to scratch it so bad, yet it would surely leave a mark.

And he didn’t have any bandage left for that.

“Maybe he’s just busy,” It sounded more of like he was trying to convince himself, trying to lie to himself and cover the truth. Well, that’s what most people do; they hide the pain and pretend it wasn’t breaking them. It wasn’t healthy, yes, but can he really do anything about it right now?

Funny how we act like everything’s fine when the truth can be seen in our dull, tired, and starless eyes.

Finally, he reached home—not that he was happy about it. He was about to hold the doorknob when he heard two people screaming at each other from the inside, this made him smile—in a very bitter way.

Even so, he opened the door and was welcomed by his mom slapping his dad—its sound echoing through his ears. Upon seeing their son by the front door, they immediately stopped and shamefully distanced themselves from each other.

Beomgyu’s nineteen now, he knows that wishes don’t really come true—especially the wish he made before blowing the candle on his 8th birthday.

‘I wish mom and dad would stop fighting and be happy again,’ were the exact words he mumbled—yet loud enough for his parents to hear.

All throughout those years, they tried to make the little one’s only wish for them come true—but it was tough, especially for two opposite souls who don’t love each other anymore.

The only reason they stayed under one roof was because of Beomgyu; their little boy whose innocence was torn to pieces by their screams and fights.

“I’m…,” Beomgyu didn’t even have that much strength to finish his words, can he really say it? Can he even say those words when this house wasn’t even close to the word ‘home’? Despite those thoughts lingering in his mind, the little one still managed to continue his words, “… home.”

By the mere sound of his empty voice, they knew he already had a long and tiring day. And did they add the length of the rope that was choking him?

They did.

“Sweetie, you’re here. Would you like me to cook something for you?” Asked his mom with the usual loving and caring voice of a mother, yet it didn’t sound genuine—as if she only forced herself to sound like that because that’s how she’s supposed to sound.

Everyone pretends. We’re all pretenders.

A forced smile made its way to Beomgyu’s lips as he shook his head, “I’m not hungry. I’ll just be in my room,” He bowed his head and mindlessly walked towards the stairs.

At the very moment he reached the second floor, he heard his mom yell at his dad, “I told you not to start any fight at this time in the evening, because this is the usual times he goes home, you insensitive rat!”

“You’re fucking blaming me again, aren’t you tired of that?!” His father yelled back.

“It is your fault. Just fucking go to your other wife and leave this house!”

Everything was already heavy enough to numb his feet. He leaned on the wall as he felt tears stain his cheeks, he sniffled and wiped his tears away.

He’s the reason why his parents are suffering in this home, in a house where everything should feel warm and safe—yet all it made him feel was sole emptiness.

What was a dead flower still doing in this hellhole?

He walked in to his room and locked the door before leaning his back on it. Then finally, after an unfathomable day of feeling tight and controlled; Beomgyu lets every single piece of pain out and off of his chest.

His throat already felt painful because of all the sobs he choked out, Beomgyu covered his face and sat down the cold floor of his room. At this kind of situation, he needed nothing else but comfort—someone here for him.

And who was that person who said that he’ll always be here for him?

“... Yeonjun,” Was the first person to pop in his messily occupied mind. Despite feeling the weakness wrapping his trembling legs, Beomgyu still stood up and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

He dialed his number and placed his phone over his ear while walking towards his bed then sitting on it. The room was enveloped by silence, only the irking sound of his phone ringing could be heard. Four rings have passed, still no answer.

Yet that wasn’t the thing that broke his heart—

It was when Yeonjun ended the call himself before even answering it.

Seconds later, he received a message from the older one.

From Yeonjun: I’m really busy right now, call me some other time.

And that was when the person who always made him smile in pure bliss—also made him smile so bitterly.

“It’s okay, he’s just busy. Let’s not… bother him,” The little one mumbled to himself while staring at Yeonjun’s message—almost memorizing it.

Bother him? Was seeking help and comfort for someone who said they’ll always be there… a bother? Beomgyu’s a… bother?

“I’m a bother,” Beomgyu couldn’t help but tear his own bitter smile away and replace it with quivering lips—sobs threatening to escape yet again. No, not again. He’s been crying too much this day, if he continued this, he might just cry out blood.

Every time he cried, every time he sobbed; it felt like knives were stabbing his throat. It was painful, yet for some reason, it lessened the weights that were hanging on his shoulders.

Beomgyu climbed on his bed and leaned against the wall, he hugged his knees, and with a wobbly, breathy, and small voice—he whispered, “You said that you’ll always be here, yet why aren’t you here…?”

Words are plain.

—

Sleeping was something that most people would do—aside from drinking, pretending, or even ignoring—to forget about everything that was slowly smashing him to small bits; smaller than his being, and smaller than the last amount of positivity he has left.

Yet, of course, no matter what we do—we can never escape these problems that come our way. And with that being said, Beomgyu’s escape (sleeping) will come to an end as well—unlike the pain that never stopped piercing him.

The sun’s rays craved for the little one’s delicate skin, its warmth brushing off the discomfort on his tear-stained cheeks. Beomgyu flickered his eyes open, letting out a groan while stretching his muscles.

Slowly, he sits up on his bed and looked out the window on his right. His mind was still blank, unlike last night when it was being bombarded with tear-jerking thoughts.

After taking in some time of composing himself, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and turned it on.

10 am, it was 10 am.

Oh, shit. It’s 10 am, he’s late.

“Oh my gosh,” Beomgyu hurriedly stood up from his bed and ran into the bathroom. The loud sound of the shower could be heard, and his little scream when he felt the cold water stream down his body. It was only a matter of minutes when he went out of the bathroom and quickly threw on his uniform while murmuring several curses (censored ones).

After preparing, he grabbed his bag and phone—quickly running out of his house, not even bothering to say goodbye to his parents; not like he has to, besides what’s the point?

They weren’t home.

The warm wind slapped his face as he ran down the pavement, he needn’t to take a bus since the school was near—but it felt like it were far away even though he’s running with all his might, almost losing his breath and balance when he took a left turn.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he reached his school. It was 10:35, and as if waking up late (really late) wasn’t enough to make this day just as horrible as the other days he had—it just had to be Research Class going on at this time, and their Research teacher was… well, terrifying (although it would be an understatement to say that she was only terrifying).

Beomgyu took in a lot of courage—he’s going to need a vast amount of it—before twisting the knob and pushing the door open, and of course, it didn’t fail to catch everyone’s attention.

What did he expect? Of course, they’d notice. They always notice. No matter how hard he tried to be inconspicuous, they still noticed. It was as if they were judging his every move, waiting for him to make a mistake so they could make fun of him.

“Choi Beomgyu,” The teacher called for him. The aforementioned boy pursed is lips and shamefully looked down the floor.

“You’re here,” He heard the teacher said, even though he wasn’t looking at them—Beomgyu knew everyone was staring at him. Some were pitying him, yet some were amused—finding his situation entertaining.

“I’m sorry… I’m late,” Beomgyu managed to stumble out some words, and luckily, his voice didn’t shake—unlike his vividly trembling hands. The atmosphere was tense, it was making him uncomfortable. So many pairs of eyes were looking at him, it was raising his anxiousness to the highest possible level. He didn’t like having people’s attention on him, although this had happened for so many times already, he’s still not used to it.

“You are. In fact—” The teacher placed her chalk on the table then grabbed her books. And suddenly, the school bell rang, “—class is over.”

Beomgyu looked at her, his lips curved into a frown. He was feeling more ashamed than earlier, he could feel a lump forming in his throat—but he still managed to speak, “I’m sorry…,” Was the only thing he could say. Some students even laughed at him, the attention was too much. Beomgyu didn’t want any of it, he’s better off unnoticed at the back of the class.

“Come with me to the faculty lounge,” The teacher sententiously ordered and walked out of the class, her heels echoing as she goes.

And before Beomgyu walked out of the classroom, he decided to look at Yeonjun—hoping that the older would at least encourage him that it’s going to be all right—however, the pink-haired boy wasn’t even sparing him a side-glance.

“Jjuni…,” He whispered before walking out, chest feeling heavier than ever.

Beomgyu felt the uneasiness within him, his footsteps were getting soggier and soggier as he got closer to the faculty lounge. Taking in a huge amount of breath, he opens the door and bowed to the teacher while walking towards their Research teacher’s respective table.

“Ma’am—”

“I did not say you can speak,” The teacher cut his words off with a steely look. Beomgyu nodded while biting his lip, he held his hands together to comfort the storm taking place within him.

“Beomgyu, this isn’t the first time you’re late. You’re early at times but mostly late, sometimes you’re not even attending my classes. And if you do, you’re spacing out,” She remarked while giving Beomgyu a stern look.

“And your grades, they’re critical. There are times when you’re high, but there are times when you’re low. You can’t possibly stay like this,” She continued, her brows almost knitted together. Beomgyu kept up a straight face, but little did she know, the little one’s dam was slowly breaking because of her words.

And what added its strength to destroy his dam? It’s the truth behind her words. Every single thing his teacher said was true.

“Tell me, Beomgyu. Is something wrong? At school or… at home?”

The question froze him. He couldn’t fumble for words, it was as if he were mute—except, he wasn’t, yet no words were escaping his mouth. They were stuck in his throat, he wanted to let them out. He wanted to say: “Yes, everything’s wrong. So, so wrong. At home, at school—everywhere. I can’t take it anymore, I want to explode and breakdown. I want to end everything but I can’t. I don’t want to. But I’m so tired!”

However, all that escaped his mouth was a faint “Nothing’s wrong.”

Words are plain.

Like what?

—

Groggily, the little one walked back to his classroom. His mind was blank, chest feeling heavy, and body moving wobbly. It felt like the world was weighing on his shoulders, he couldn’t take it—he can never take it.

The only thing he wanted right now was a hug, a soothing comfort, someone to tell him that it’s going to be all right even though it won’t—but it’ll be enough reason to continue fighting knowing that someone’s cheering you on. And he wanted one person to do all those, besides he’s the only friend he has.

Friend…

He slid the door open and was greeted by an empty classroom. Everyone was in the cafeteria now, but he didn’t have the appetite to eat. Yet, where’s Yeonjun? He would always wait for him so they could eat together.

The deafening silence of the room added to Beomgyu’s gloomy state, the curtains were blocking the sunlight from coming in, the untidy chairs and tables looked as if a typhoon just passed by their classroom.

“Maybe he was hungry and decided to leave first,” Said the raven-haired boy to himself, he was convincing—no, comforting and making himself feel better by believing a lie.

As if raising a white flag, he lets out a defeated sigh and walked in the classroom before closing the door. He walked over to his seat and sat on it, resting his arms on the table and his head on top of them.

Right now, his head felt heavy and so did his eyes. He overslept yet he still feels sleepy, as if he never had any sleep at all. It was peaceful, he was alone but he was thankful for that. This was one of the rarest times the universe would give to him; tranquility and the time to be at ease—to clear his mind and wash off the venomous thoughts that ruined his innocence.

Not even noticing it, he already fell asleep. He wanted to dream of something positive; perhaps a dream about having a happy family, or a dream about having a fun high school life.

It’s sad that he can only dream about them, because he can never have them in reality.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself amidst a hilltop. The sky looked stunning—a mixture of blue and purple gave color to the vast sky. The sound of the wind blew as if they were coming out of a flute; creating a captivating melody that calmed his monstrous waves. It was refreshing; the smell of the wind and the cold breeze hugging his being was invigorating.

Happy.

He felt happy because of this. It was as if his life was fun, as if he wasn’t suffering, as if he didn’t have any problems. He was happy, Beomgyu was happy.

But even happiness has an ending.

“Choi Beomgyu!”

He woke up when he heard someone shout his name. Beomgyu looked up and saw their Physics teacher furiously looking at him with his hands on his waist. And again, all their attentions were on him.

Immediately, he stood up and bowed—but suddenly, he felt dizzy and he lost his balance, so he quickly held onto his table for support.

‘Ah, my head feels so heavy,’ Beomgyu massaged his temples while his legs tried to carry his weight.

“Are you all right?” Asked the teacher as he approached the little one.

Despite feeling dizzy, Beomgyu still managed to nod. “I’m fi—” The teacher didn’t let him finish, after all, Beomgyu was lying.

“No, you’re not. Go to the nurse’s office,” The teacher ordered, but a hint of gentleness was still present in his voice.

“Okay…,” Beomgyu sharply exhaled while enduring the piercing pain in his head.

“Choi Beomgyu, oh my god!”

The teacher and some students suddenly panicked when they saw Beomgyu fall on the floor—he fainted. The teacher quickly ran towards the boy and pressed his hand on Beomgyu’s forehead, “He has a high fever…”

“Yeonjun,” He looked at the pink-haired boy behind him, “Bring him to the nurse’s office and do not leave until he wakes up.”

—

Beomgyu fluttered his eyes open, his head still felt heavy, and his chest stings with an inexplicable pain. He hissed as he sat up from the bed, “What happened…?” He asked himself while massaging his temples.

“You fainted,” Yeonjun suddenly pulled the curtains to the side, and Beomgyu saw him sitting on the bed next to him. With wide eyes, Beomgyu stared at Yeonjun—a barrier of silence separated the two of them—suddenly feeling a hint of happiness mix within his veins.

“Oh…,” Was all he could react while nodding. “Thank you for bringing me here,” Beomgyu managed to beam out a smile while looking at the older one.

The pink-haired boy only hummed in response and hopped off the bed, “Are you feeling okay now?” Yeonjun asked, his eyes fixated on his phone’s screen.

It felt like his attention wasn’t on Beomgyu at all, and this made him gulp while gripping on the white sheet tighter—crumpling it with his trembling fingers.

“Yeah, I am,” He lied, his voice coming out small to prevent himself from cracking.

“That’s great. I suppose you can go home by yourself, right?” Yeonjun smiled at the younger one and grabbed his bag from the bed.

“Well, I guess. But I—” Beomgyu’s words were cut off, he could feel a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You’ll be fine. You’re strong, bye,” Yeonjun ruffled the younger one’s hair before walking out of the room.

“—need you,” Beomgyu whispered and bit his lip. He was staring at the door, not even noticing the droplet of tear that stained his rosy cheek. The room was dominated by silence, this time, he didn’t want the silence. He wanted to hear Yeonjun’s endearing voice rather than this painful silence.

Beomgyu leaned against the metallic backrest of the bed and hugged his knees. Nothing was bizarre right now, nor was it even enigmatic—this always happens, it’s always how things end.

“But I feel so weak, Hyung,” Beomgyu whispered to himself, his little voice coming out brittle as his fountain of tears brushed against his skin.

Words are plain.

Like a white paper plane.

—

Another dreadful day came on Beomgyu’s way, another risky obstacle is about to get through. They said life is about living passed your limits, yet why does it feel like he can’t even move a little without anyone judging him? Why can’t he stay still without feeling tight and controlled? Why does it feel like life is about surviving? Not living, just surviving.

It had been minutes but his paper was still blank, he spent most of his given time staring at his test paper.

His head was already throbbing with pain, deeply piercing his brain like a spear. Beomgyu tried to answer, at least, a few questions—enough to get a passing mark, or maybe even, a mark better than zero.

But the numbers and letters on the paper looked odd, he couldn’t understand anything. Beomgyu was almost on the verge of crying amidst his test, but no, he was tired of it. He was tired of crying over the things that were destroying him.

For once, he just wanted to lose interest, to not care about anything.

He’s had enough of crying because of unreachable expectations in academic results. No one was really setting a standard for him, except for himself.

And the inevitable ringing of the school-bell came rushing in their ears, the exam was finished—but he couldn’t even answer, at least, ten questions.

With no choice left, he turned his test paper in; silently preparing himself for the results, although he knows that no matter how prepared he’ll be, he still won’t accept it in the end—but it was his fault, no one else can be blamed except himself… right?

The teacher was checking their test papers, the sound of flipping pages made Beomgyu’s heart thump fast. Everyone else looked calm, some were anxious too—but not as anxious as him. There were students he didn’t even care about their scores, how Beomgyu wished he was like them too.

And suddenly, the teacher stopped and stared at one particular paper—Beomgyu’s paper.

She heaved a sigh, “Beomgyu, let’s talk outside,” She said and stood up from her seat, sternly leaving the room while holding his test paper.

Knowing all-too-well what was going to come for him, Beomgyu stood up from his seat in defeat and walked out of the classroom.

The hallway was empty, no students nor teachers were walking at this time. They had the quiet halls all to themselves, there were no audiences to Beomgyu’s messy situation.

“Why is ninety-eight percent of your test paper blank?” The teacher asked while showing Beomgyu his test paper that only had his name and section written on it.

Despite the serious tone on her voice, Beomgyu did not even budge a muscle. He only looked out the hallway’s window, suddenly feeling a lost of interest about his test score that was obviously in a very critical state—this was what he wanted, right?

“Beomgyu, why aren’t you answering me?” She exhaled sharply, her brows knitting closer to each other.

The boy only shrugged and looked down the floor, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean by that? Beomgyu, are you sure nothing’s wrong? You have to tell me so I can help you,” His teacher’s voice suddenly sounded worried, so he looked at her—and she looked less furious than earlier.

‘Is that genuine?’ Beomgyu asked himself, his mind was playing tricks on him—controlling his thoughts and turning them into doubts.

“Yes, nothing’s wrong,” Beomgyu answered, surely, and with no hesitations.

“Then why are your test scores like this?” She asked yet again, not understanding why her student is being and acting like this.

“Obviously, because I didn’t know the answers. I’m fine, stop worrying too much about me,” Beomgyu insisted, he looked at his teacher and there was a clear sight of pleading in his eyes.

He couldn’t handle it; the situation of being asked if you’re okay for multiple times was unbearable. One more question about him and he would just breakdown right here, right now.

“Beomgyu…,” The teacher sighed and held her temples, “Okay, if you say so,” She nodded, looking at her student with both disappointment and pity. Silence washed over the halls before Beomgyu spoke again.

“Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Words really are plain, colorless, there was no meaning attached to them. No truth, just being fraud—hoax, lies.

They were as plain as a white paper plane; the act of saying them was like throwing the paper plane in the air, but since there was no meaning—no truth—within them, they ended up falling down the abyss of lies and unfulfilled promises, just like how a paper plane falls to the floor.

—

He was as weak as a paper plane, as faint and plain. Doesn’t even have any vast amount of strength to stay in the air—it falls, it always falls.

Some people would think depression would only affect specific parts of you; your mind and your emotions. But no, it’s not like that at all. It solely affects a person; from their mind to their hearts, their appetite to eat, their views of things, their decisions, attentions, thoughts—their lives.

It was a hefty hindrance, you can’t even smile without forcing it out. You lose interest in things you used to love, you feel empty, shattered—dead.

We’re all zombies in this dreadful world. We’re all breathing but not living. We’re all whole but broken in existence, numb in emotions, and weak in everything.

Beomgyu stared at his tray of food, softly tapping his chopsticks against the metallic tray, producing a gloomy tune. His entire body felt heavy, as if chains with rocks were pulling his muscles and strength down. Everyone else around him were having lunch with their friends, they were all happy—bliss written all over their faces while talking with their friends. Yet here he was, all alone and left out.

“Come with us,” A bunch of guys suddenly appeared and pulled the little one out of the cafeteria, but Beomgyu did not even fight back nor ask where they were bringing him—he was tired of fighting.

So fucking tired of everything.

They brought him at the back of the school’s building; no students were around, just a lineup of trees and orange leaves scattered on the ground.

Beomgyu was pushed down on the ground, “We have a surprise for you,” Said one of them with a teasing tone. Beomgyu held his breath in as he pursed his lips, ‘Again…?’

Mingyu was leaning against a tree, he looked at the raven-haired and raised a brow, “Why’d you bring that loser here?” Obviously, by the mere sound of his voice, he was disinterested by the little one’s appearance.

One of them squatted and patted Beomgyu’s shoulder, “Your girlfriend broke up with you, right? So, we brought him here for you to enjoy yourself and forget about the pain,” He explained with a grin, he ruffled Beomgyu’s hair which caused the little one to clench his muscles.

A wave of fear washed over the little one’s body, he shivered and tried to stand up but they held him down, “Whoa there, stay still,” Said another one of them and chuckled.

“Please, don’t do this…,” Beomgyu tightly whispered while shutting his eyes. He was used to getting bullied, but right now, he didn’t want any of it. He was alone, no one was here to help him.

“Have fun, you say,” Mingyu smirked, “What kind of fun?” He asked while walking towards the little boy, squatting down, and lifted Beomgyu’s chin. He locked gazes with the little one’s doe eyes, it was begging for him—begging for them to stop.

“We brought…,” One of his friends said, a tinge of thrill in his voice as he brought out a big plastic, “… plastic balloons with water in the inside!” He wiggled his brows.

“Now, that’s what I call ‘fun’,” Mingyu grinned and grabbed a balloon from the plastic.

“No, no, please. Stop this, please,” Beomgyu pleaded as they forced him to stand in front of the wall. They were practically dragging him.

The weather was cold, and if he gets soaking wet at this kind of weather—he’ll surely get sick.

He was already sick of this world, and now he’s going to get sick—literally? Great, just great.

“Mingyu-Hyung, please…,” All he could do was to beg, all he ever did was to beg—but they never listened. Their eyes, ears, and hearts were shut when it comes to him.

“She fucking dumped me!” Mingyu shouted and threw the balloon at Beomgyu; it burst and soaked the little one’s school uniform. The freezing liquid streaming down his skin made him shiver in an instant, it was brisk, as cold as their hearts.

“She was a bitch anyway,” He snickered and threw another balloon—right on Beomgyu’s face. Beomgyu could feel the pain that slapped his cheek, it brought a stinging sensation to his sensitive skin. He wanted to cry again; this was too much.

“I can find another girl. A much hotter one,” Mingyu scoffed and threw another balloon.

It went on and on. Beomgyu even stopped begging now. Besides, they won’t stop even if he pleads and beg on his knees. They were that cruel; they would never give in the innocence of a precious person.

The world was insensitive, it never cared about the fragility and fears of a person. They would keep breaking you—in every attempt of fixing yourself, that’s when they break you, that’s when the world decides to fuck you up all over again.

—

Again, he looks for Yeonjun. He looks for the person he needed the most right now.

Finally, Beomgyu found him—

With someone else.

Yeonjun was with a certain blue-haired boy. They were talking with each other, smiling widely as they stared at each other.

“Hyung…,” A mere whisper escaped his lips. He didn’t know why, but seeing Yeonjun happy with someone else pierced a stinging pain towards his chest.

He could feel the tears coming out unwanted again, why won’t they stop falling? What does he have to do in order to stop them from escaping? Will they even stop?

Beomgyu clenched his fist, he felt a lump forming in his throat. He took in a large amount of air—his breath shaking as he inhaled.

“Liar,” He whispered and ran away from the sight—he couldn’t look at them, too much sight of happiness for a person who would never feel it.

—

Tonight, the sky was plain; no stars glistened and the moon was hiding behind the gray clouds. It was a perfect resemblance of Beomgyu—the boy whose every star already died.

He looked at his home, the house he always goes back to after school. The home that was once filled with happiness, yet is now filled with sharp pieces that stabbed him all the way through his soul. When did all of these dreadful things start? Was it when he was six? Seven? Nine? Although, it doesn’t really matter when it started, all he knows is that this house contains all of the melancholic memories that started all of his sufferings.

Suddenly, the door sprung open; revealing his dad who held a small bag with his hand. They met gazes; a pair of eyes that looked guilty while the other looked lifeless—unsurprised.

Beomgyu knew this day would come, it was inescapable. The strings that once tied his parents together were now loose—perhaps, they never even existed in the first place.

“Beomgyu…,” His father called, he was ashamed of himself. The atmosphere was tense, as dark as the hollow sky above their heads.

“Where are you going?” Beomgyu asked, the sound of his voice tight but faint.

“I’m… leaving,” Beomgyu’s father couldn’t even look at his son. It was disappointing, his actions were disappointing. The nervousness could even be felt within his voice, now he’s acting like a coward in front of his own son.

“Why…?” Beomgyu asked, his voice being breathy, as he approached his father.

“I…,” He couldn’t even say the obvious. Maybe he couldn’t think of any sensible excuse? He couldn’t think of any acceptable reason? Why can’t he just say the truth and stop lying? Beomgyu wanted to laugh at this.

“All right, I get it. You have another family,” Beomgyu said with a little chuckle which caught his father’s attention. He looked as if he had just been caught committing a crime, a crime whose consequence was breaking the little one.

“You… knew?” The grip on his bag tightened.

“I was silent but I knew everything,” Beomgyu forced out a smile, his eyes vividly getting glossy. Surprised at how he still has tears left to shed even after bawling so much today.

“Beom—”

“You can go now, don’t keep my half-brother waiting. They need you,” Beomgyu said in defeat and walked in their house, feeling the heaviness of the air when he passed by his father.

‘I need you too, but it’s not right to force you to stay,’ Beomgyu thought to himself.

His dad hesitated for a while, but in the end, he still chose to leave them. And Beomgyu already accepted that since a long time ago.

Beomgyu looked at his mom who was sitting on the couch while looking at a piece of paper, “Are you going to leave too?” His question managed to reach his mother despite the distance between them. The cold wind going in their living room through the open door.

She looked at her son and guilt was present in her eyes as well, she was even anxiously biting her nails, “We already filed a divorce, but—”

“If you want to leave, then leave. Don’t force yourself to stay if you don’t want to,” The little one said, no hint of emotion in his voice, even his eyes were dull.

They made a decision without thinking of the things it might cause him. However, maybe they did. After all, if they continued this toxic relationship between the two of them, it’ll only break Beomgyu even more.

It was over, it was the end of the rope.

He didn’t let his mother answer anymore because he decided to walk towards the stairs and into his bedroom. He locked himself in his room and sat on his bed, the irking silence echoing around his room was driving him crazy. It was as if he was locked in a small room without enough space to breathe nor to move a single finger.

Beomgyu opened the small drawer beside him and took out a piece of paper.

Beomgyu looked at the paper with the words ‘I’m here’ written on its side—words that were a complete lie.

He slowly folded it to a paper plane and threw it into the air, but it fell almost immediately.

This caused Beomgyu to chuckle while looking at the paper plane on the floor, “Pathetic.”

—

Another day came.

But this will be the last for him.

The sky today was gloomy, bluer than blue; just like him, just like the weightless yet heavy feeling in his chest.

At the very top of their school’s building, there stood Beomgyu on the edge while looking down. It was high, too scary for a person who was afeared of heights—yet Beomgyu didn’t even feel any hint of fear and nervousness.

The only thing he was frightened of was living through another excruciating day.

Plenty of students were looking at him; some were shouting at him to think this through while the others were only taking a video of him—seriously, is someone’s pain an amusement for you?

And of course, Yeonjun saw him. Quickly, he ran his way towards the rooftop. When he opened the door, he immediately shouted at the top of his lungs—

“What are you doing?! Beom, get down, now!”

In all honesty, Beomgyu did not expect that the older one would come for him. He thought that no one would even come up here to stop him from doing this since nobody really cared about him that much.

Even so, he was too late.

Turning around to face the pink-haired boy, Beomgyu bitterly smiled. The wind softly going through his raven locks, giving off a tingling sensation on his skin.

“Are you tired of me, Hyung?”

Yeonjun raised a brow, “Tired? What are you talking about? Stop kidding around and get down, now!” Yeonjun said as he took a step forward but Beomgyu warned him not to come closer.

“Are you tired of seeing me at my worse?” Beomgyu asked another question, he heaved a sigh as he felt the tears forming again.

Yeonjun shook his head while furrowing his brows, “Gyu—”

“You’re tired of seeing me at my worse that’s why you chose someone who was at their best,” Beomgyu’s voice cracked, his lips quivering as he said those. His hands were clenched into a fist while sternly looking at the older one.

For the second time, Yeonjun shook his head, tears starting to sting his eyes, “Gyu, no. Listen to me, don’t do this…” His voice was brittle, almost shattering like a piece of fragile glass.

“You chose someone better than me—ah, no, not better than me. I was never even good enough in the first place,” The raven-haired weakly chuckled while looking at his shoes.

“No, don’t say that. Please, forgive me. Just please, don’t do this. You’re better than this,” Yeonjun tried to convince the younger one, but Beomgyu only looked at him with furrowed brows—suddenly feeling a wave of nostalgia about everything that he went through.

“Better? Hyung, all my life I was worthless!” Beomgyu’s tears finally escaped from his eyes, he was crying—again.

Yeonjun heaved out a sigh before running his fingers through his pink locks, “No, you’re not. Listen—”

“Do you know how badly I needed a hug? I’ve been bullied since I was young, used, betrayed, and now, my parents divorced!” Beomgyu was trembling right now, both emotionally and mentally unstable.

“I needed a hug from someone who told me he’ll always be there, but never was!” Now, he was able to voice his emotions out, the edge of his voice cracking.

Yeonjun felt his muscles clench, “Gyu… what are you—”

“I had you with me on the starting line, but when I was on the verge of destroying myself—that’s when you left. You left when I needed you the most,” Beomgyu gave emphasis to each word—as if he wanted Yeonjun to remember all those word by word.

The older fell in silence. Although, Beomgyu wasn’t blaming him for the pain and shits he went through—he was merely telling him how vast the power words hold.

“All I ever needed was a hug and motivation from you, because I’m so fucking tired. Was I asking for too much?” Beomgyu was running out of breath—running out of reasons to live.

“Look, you’re being insensible. I’m here, what are you saying?!” The situation was too much, everything was too much that it frustrated Yeonjun out—he didn’t mean what he said about Beomgyu being insensible.

But still, it had already been said, and Beomgyu heard it loud and clear.

The little one scoffed, “I’m being insensible? Is seeking comfort from you being insensible, Hyung? Am I bothering you?” Hurt was abundant in his voice, and Yeonjun regretted what he said—the power of words indeed.

“No—” He was cut off, again and again.

Beomgyu was tired of not being able to speak because of people’s “It’ll be okay”, “It’ll pass”, truthfully—it will never be okay.

“Then why the fuck did you leave me alone?!”

Beomgyu’s piercing voice zippered Yeonjun’s mouth, “You said you’ll always be there for me but you weren’t!” He shouted yet again. The wind was still caressing him, as if it served as the comfort Beomgyu had been looking for ever since.

“Your words were empty that’s why it couldn’t fill up anything in my soul,” Beomgyu whispered, heaving out a sigh right after. This time, his tears stopped falling. Just like how he stopped hoping for everything to be okay.

“Beomgyu…,” Yeonjun called for him in a breathy way, “All I’m asking is for you to get off there, please,” Yeonjun pleaded—desperately.

“Oh, I’m going to get off here, all right,” Beomgyu chuckled in a bitter way, he looked behind him, mind going blank the very moment he caught sight of the long way he’s going to go through before he’ll reach the end.

This caused Yeonjun to panic, a rush of fear quickly taking over his entire body, “No, not that way. Just stop this please, I’m here for you…”

There it was again, the words he always wanted to hear from Yeonjun to calm himself down. The words that Beomgyu used to love were now useless—they were meaningless, after all.

What’s the use of believing in something that wasn’t real?

Beomgyu chuckled while shaking his head, “Words are plain,” He turned around.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened as a gust of wind slapped his face, “No, Beomgyu. No!”

And he jumps, as if he wanted to fly and escape from this cruel world—but after some time in the air, he fell…

… like a white paper plane.


End file.
